Angels are watching over you
by Firenze.Sun
Summary: It's the thirty anniversary of Mary's death, and Dean copes with Castiel's help. Originally posted on Tumblr. Destiel


**Remember, English is not my native language and this wasn't beta'd.**

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**Angels are watching over you**

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He could still remember it. He just had to close his eyes and the memory would come fresh and clear.

_"Angels are watching over you, Dean,"_ she had said while she tugged him in bed.

Those had been the last words that he ever heard her say. Then it was fire and running out of the house with baby Sam in his arms.

Thirty years had passed, the pain had become managable with time. But today… it had been _thirty_ years. A whole lifetime.

If she had lived then she would have taken him to school, see him have her first girlfriend, graduating high-school. Maybe, she could have given him advices about his sexuality, she had been such a good person, he was sure if a teenager and confused him would have come to her with worries about him liking boys, she would have soothe him. Tell him it was okay. She would have welcomed her if he ever came home with a boy. And then she would have see him turn into a mechanic, just as his father. They would have all gone together to see Sam graduate from law school.

They would… she would… it didn't matter.

Thirty years had passed and she was still dead.

Dean grabbed the cup with tea still warm harder. Normally, he would just deal with everything with a glass of whiskey, but he had gone a great way far from that. Coffee was his normal choice now. But tea is supossed to calm you down, right? Coffee would just work.

It was three a. m. after all, coffee was still of the table.

Not even his trembling breaths stopped him from hearing the steps coming closer to him. He knew those steps, they had been with him for a short time, but they were unmistakable.

He didn't say anything and waited for Cas to come close to him. When he felt the weight of the ex-angel's hand on his shoulder, he sighed, that simple touch soothe him more than he could express.

"You're out of bed," said Cas.

"Yes," answered Dean, whatever sarcastic retort that he could have said had died under the weight of the day, "I couldn't sleep," he added taking one more sip of his tea.

Cas waited in silence, he knew that if he wanted Dean to talk, it was best not to rush him.

"It's just…" Dean ignored the way his voice trembled, it was not a sob, it was just him trying to find the right words, "I know that nothing has changed, but…" and when his voice broke next, he didn't try to hide it, "it's been thirty years, man."

"I know," said Cas, his voice calm but the hunter could feel the empathy on it.

Dean turned and faced his lover. His green eyes filled with tears seeked comfort in the other's. Cas took his head in his hands and kissed his forehead, then each one of his cheeks, and when the angel's lips touched his, Dean lost it. He grabbed Cas hard between his arms, and kissed him like a drowning man whose only salvation was Cas' mouth. He kissed with passion and force seeking comfort.

When they drew apart to breath, Dean whispered into Cas' ear, "Take me."

He needed to get lost, to forget. And Cas knew this. So he gently guided him to their room. Blue eyes never leaving green ones.

Once in their room, with the door locked, Cas undressed him slowly, worshipping each new part of skin that revealed. He then prepared him whispering sweet words into his ear, that made Dean moan more that the fingers in his ass. And when Cas was fully seated inside him, he cried with pleasure at the feeling of the former angel filling him, making him whole.

The pace was slow. It was love making at its best expression. Cas carried him with pleasure onto a place where it was all pleasure and skin and moans and blue eyes. And when he came, he cried Cas' name.

When Cas drew out of him, and repositioned himself in the bed to be able to cuddle, Dean started sobbing. He cried for the death of his mother, he cried for the childhood he never had, he cried for his abusive father, he cried for all the pain he had endured and all the scars in his souls.

The fallen angel never let go of him. He let the hunter cry in his chest, while he caressed his hair.

After a while, when the tears had dried in his cheeks, and Dean was falling asleep with his head over Cas' chest, he thought that his mother had lied to him. He knew that Cas wouldn't sleep until he did it first.

"You were right, mum," he thought, maybe not angels in plural, but he had one angel that would always look after him.

Before finally surrender into sleep, Dean could have swore that he heard a woman's voice saying, _"Of course I was, honey. Angels _are_ watching over you."_

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**For those following my other Destiel fic, there's going to be an update soon, don't you worry!**


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